The stockings were hung

I've hung this stocking every Christmas of my life (except the first one when I'd just left the hospital after the hard work of being born) -- in 5 states and 2 different countries. Needless to say, it is pretty old. It's just big enough to hold an apple, a tangerine, some nuts and a candy cane.

My Mom made it for me back when felt from the dry goods store was still made out of wool. The hanging loop was replaced with a twisted cord of Red Heart yarn, back when Red Heart was still wool, too. It was leftover yarn from my first knitting project: a red scarf. Cast on 32 stitches with size 13 needles, knit each row for awhile, gather the cast on and bound off edges and finish each with a tassel. Very chic.

We have more glamorous stockings in my house -- gleaming taffeta with a padded smocked cuff, stitched in metallic gold with gold bells -- but I always hang mine. The green patch on the toe? Not ornamental. When I was about 10, I left a walnut in the toe when packing it away after Christmas. An enterprising mouse nibbled through the wool felt to get to the nut. The stitches aren't very even around the patch and the terrycloth cuff is a bit bedraggled. I think the bells were originally on Joan(ie)'s stocking, but some under-the-table trade was made that Mom probably never knew about until now.

Cassie invited some friends for a small party and she's been getting the house ready. It seemed like a good time to ditch some clutter. She is ruthless, hardly a sentimental bone in her body yet she never suggested, "Why don't you get rid of this old thing?" It's been hung every Christmas of her life, too.